So, we all knows kids are rather irrational. Sometimes I have these insane conversations with my son that leave me wanting to pull my hair out. When I told my daughter this story she couldn’t stop laughing.
My daughter made cupcakes on Saturday. By the evening all but three had disappeared and they’d been out all day and gotten kind of crunchy. So I didn’t bother saving them.
The next day, my five year old son, who ate about seven of them the previous day, starts crying because he wanted a cupcake they were all gone.
I realized I had missed the window of snack time and we were already in the danger zone. All signs pointed to a meltdown.
I said they weren’t all gone, but they were probably crunchy. I pulled one apart and said he could eat the bottom because they were semi soft.
There were more tears. I suggested heating one up to soften it. That didn’t work, and after a little more whining he ate the bottom of one. And then the bottom of another. He tried the top of the heated one and it was “too crunchy.” And more tears and wailing followed.
By this point, I want to go back in time and tell my daughter not to make the damn cupcakes so I can prevent this madness.
I suggest the bottom of the heated one. But in an uber-dramatic fashion he is screaming that it’s too hot. The damn thing is cold, but he’s wailing and acting as if touching it scalds him. Touch “OW.” Touch. “OW.”
I’m trying not to lose my shit. He needs to eat and get his blood sugar up so I can talk to the rational child.
“You can eat the top,” I say, “It’s not that hard.”
“It’s too crunchy and I hate crunchy things.”
He finally eats the last of the bottom and then probably a yogurt. And I’m sitting on the floor of the kitchen, staring blearly eyed at my cell phone, trying to calm myself down.
He skips back into the kitchen, smiling and laughing. He trailed a rainbow and there were unicorns and puppies and kittens following.
He snatches up the crunchy muffin top and eats it.
My eyes are like this O.o as I watch him eat this crunchy muffin top.
I can’t help myself so I comment, “I thought you didn’t like the top.”
And I am not making this up, this child looks up at me and smiles sweetly and says, “I like when it’s crunchy.”
And off he goes. I cleaned up the kitchen while muttering to myself how unbelievable the situation was. I’m still not over it.
But I love his little face.